Eight Years
by KTEW
Summary: Okay, I know it's been done to death, but this is an after Lake Laogai fic. After... what happened, Smellerbee and Longshot decide to get the Freedom Fighters back together. Smellershot. Up for adoption.
1. Lost

Eight years.

That's how long I'd been a Freedom Fighter. Eight years of blood, battle practice, and warrior paint.

I'd thought those eight years had prepared me for anything. But nothing could've prepared me for watching Jet die.

The training, the battles. They suddenly meant nothing. For the first time in those eight years I felt completely helpless. I felt like that lost little girl after the Fire Nation destroyed my village.

Just like then, I couldn't stop the tears.

Just like then, I was losing someone I loved.

Jet looked at me through glassy, pain-filled eyes. "Why are you crying, Little Bee?" he slurred. "There's nothing to be worried about. It's gonna be fine. It'll all be just… fine."

And then his eyes closed.

I didn't have to check for a pulse. Didn't need to listen for breathing. I knew he was gone.

I looked up at Longshot, who had an arrow notched in his bow, aiming towards the only entrance.

"Longshot," I managed to choke out, "I don't think they're coming. I think they're more worried about the Avatar than they are about a couple of kids who got in the way."

He looked at me. I've always been able to tell what he was thinking, even without reading his face, though I still don't know how. At the moment it was, (They _are_ kids who got in the way.)

"You know what I mean. A couple of kids the fate of the world doesn't depend on. It's not like we'll be any help without Jet. We're not benders!"

He put the arrow back in his quiver and lowered his bow. Then he walked over and sat down next to me.

(We'll be okay.)

"HOW? We're alone. Pipsqueak and the Duke are all the way in Omashu, Sneers and everyone else are back in the forest, and Jet's…" I couldn't bring myself to say it. "We can't depend on him anymore."

(We'll be FINE.)

I jumped up. "No, we won't! How can you even THINK that! Jet was the one that got us to join the Freedom Fighters. He was the one who _created_ the Freedom Fighters! Without him, honestly, we'd be dead! Killed by hunger, or thirst, or how about the FIRE NATION?"

(You're back to your old self, I see. You know, it's kind of scary, seeing you like that.)

Like what, I thought, a girl? "My POINT!" I yelled.

(Okay. You're right. We wouldn't have… survived if it wasn't for him. But he wouldn't like seeing you like this. He even said so.)

I hadn't realized he'd been listening. I fell back onto my knees and stroked Jet's forehead. "I guess you're right. But what are we gonna do? We can't stay here. The Dai Li WILL come after us, eventually."

(We can get the Freedom Fighters back together.)

I looked at him. "What?"

(Jet would've wanted us to. We know where everyone is. Pipsqueak and the Duke are in Omashu, Cinnamon and Honey said they'd go back to the Northern Water Tribe, Sneers is back in the forest, managing everyone who stayed, and everyone else said they'd stay around there.)

I had to admit it was a pretty good plan. There were just a couple… kinks. "Okay," I said slowly. "Omashu's maybe a month or so away, a couple weeks if we somehow get an ostrich-horse or something. There aren't too many villages around the forest, so it shouldn't be that hard to find everyone who stuck around. But do you REALIZE how far away the Northern Water Tribe is? We're in the Southern Earth Kingdom. Omashu's even farther south, if we want to go there first. And then we have Sneers. He's 'in charge' of everyone else. You know how stubborn he is. And _he_ was the one who got us to leave in the first place. I don't think he'll be wanting us back there any time soon."

He cocked an eyebrow. (And has that ever stopped you before?)

I smiled. "No. But what about Cinnamon and Honey? It wouldn't be the Freedom Fighters without them." Even though they were Water Tribe, they were still like my sisters.

(We just need time. And it's not like we have to do this by the end of Summer, or anything.)

"Yeah. But speaking of Summer's end, we should probably see if we can help Aang."

(What happened to us not being any help without Jet?)

"Honestly, Aang needs all the help he can get." I thought a moment. "But, about Jet, what can we do with him? It's not like we can carry him all the way to the hideout, and we can't exactly bury him here."

(I think… he wouldn't want us to move him. He'd rather stay at the field of his last battle. Even if it wasn't against the Fire Nation.)

"So… we just… leave him?"

Longshot nodded. (He would've wanted it that way.)

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. You're right." I stood up and held out my hand. "Well, come on. We've gotta get going if we wanna get Pipsqueak and the Duke before they blow up Omashu." The kid loves explosives. I still regret introducing him to blasting jelly.

Longshot took my hand and I pulled him up. I'd just started walking when I got an idea.

"Hang on," I said. I ran back over to Jet.

I obviously didn't have any flowers on me, but I felt like I needed to leave something.

So I unsheathed my khukri and laid it across his chest. It'd been a present from him. My first weapon.

Longshot stepped beside me. He took an arrow out of his quiver and set it so the point touched the tip of the sword.

He looked at me. (A piece of each of us.)

I smiled, just a little. It hurt, but we needed to get moving. There wasn't enough time to just sit there, crying.

I started walking. "Come on. Before the Duke gets into even more trouble than us."


	2. Trapped

"Crap." That one word was unbelievably accurate.

They'd collapsed the exit.

We were trapped in.

I kicked at a nearby rock. "Why can't we be earthbenders? Seriously!"

Longshot looked at me. (Well, now we know why they didn't come after us.)

"Yay." 'Cause that helps _so_ much.

(We'll find a way out of this.)

"Uh-huh. Sure we will." I sat on a rock that came up to my waist and leaned back over it.

(Are you even _trying_ to think of a way out?)

"Of course I am." For some reason the lake reminded me of the one in the forest. It was pretty deep, maybe… twenty feet? We used to play in it when we were younger. Heck, forget younger, we swam until a couple months ago. Until we… disbanded. Sometimes we'd even try and swim all the way down and back up. Usually we could only get halfway down. Then Jet would start lecturing us about how dangerous it is… And then he'd do it himself.

Although… after a few years, Longshot and I could both do it pretty easily…

I jolted upright. "Longshot!"

He turned, looking kind of startled.

"I have an idea!"

He raised his eyebrows.

"How deep do you think we are?"

He shrugged. (Probably somewhere between thirty and fifty feet. This lake's pretty deep. Why?)

"Do you think we could move these rocks?"

(Yeah, but why would we? Wouldn't that flood the place?)

"Exactly! We can just move the rocks and swim up! Easy!"

(Um, Bee? Between _thirty_ and _fifty_ feet.)

"So? We can hold our breath that long. We did it back in the forest."

(What about the water pressure?)

"What about it?"

(You always complained about headaches after you dove all the way down. It's because the water was pressing down on you. It'll be twice as bad here.)

"Um…" I honestly couldn't think of anything. Those headaches were pretty bad, but I've been through worse. A _lot_ worse. "Well, we came in this way, and it seemed like less, maybe it's not as deep as it seems. Hope we're higher and that it's not as bad as you're making it sound?" I said hopefully.

He looked at me incredulously.

"Well, I don't see _you_ coming up with anything better!"

He rolled his eyes. (Fine, fine, we'll try. Just _try_ to not get us killed.)

I stuck my tongue out at him and turned to the landslide. "Yeah, yeah. Just start digging."

(Oh…)

I groaned. "What _now_?"

(Um… How are we going to move them so that it doesn't crumble and fall on us before we can get out?)

_So_ close!

I studied the rocks for a moment. "How tall was the doorway?"

(Like… eight feet. Again, why?)

"This has to be, like, eleven. The walls should still be up behind the top three feet, so if we can get those off, it should make it easier to dig without getting crushed. Now the only problem is reaching the top…"

I thought a moment. "Ah-ha!" I whipped around to face him. I looked him up and down for a moment.

(What?)

"You're what, 5'10"?"

(Somewhere around there, _why_?)

"And I'm… a little taller than 5'?"

He nodded.

"Think you could give me a boost?"

He seemed to realize what I was thinking. (Um… I guess so.)

I turned back to the pile and got as close as I could without tripping over the pebbles around the base.

He knelt down and laced his fingers together. I stepped on and he lifted me up.

I reached up and tried to grab the rocks on top. I came up about eight inches too short.

I sighed. "Set me down."

He lowered me and raised his eyebrows.

"I'm too short," I grumbled out of the corner of my mouth.

He looked amused.

"Oh, knock it off!" I looked around and found a relatively rectangular rock about a foot tall.

I picked it up – it was surprisingly heavy, which was probably a good thing – and set it down in front of Longshot.

"Try that," I said, stepping back.

He laced his fingers again and set them on the rock.

I stepped on, and he lifted me, then stepped onto the rock.

_Now_ I could reach it. I picked up a rock about the size of my palm and dropped it down.

"Ow!" I heard before I was sent tumbling.

I managed to land on my feet, but jarred my left ankle.

Longshot was on the ground, rubbing his head. His hat was hanging around his neck.

"Sorry," I said with a sheepish grin.

"_Nice_," he said through his teeth. "Next time, warn me before you throw a rock at my head." He sighed and stood up. (Let's try that again.)

"Hang on." I hobbled over to a rock, sat down, and rubbed my ankle.

(Are you okay?)

"Yeah, my landing was just a little bit off." Actually, it was getting worse. I was starting to worry I'd sprained it.

He walked over and crossed his arms.

"What?"

He raised his eyebrows.

I sighed, rolled my eyes, and took off my boot.

He looked at my ankle. (Bee, it's already swelling.)

"So?"

He rolled his eyes. (_So_ you shouldn't _walk_ on that, let alone try and balance on my hands.)

I shoved my foot back in my boot and stood up. "Seriously, I'm fine." I walked over to the pile and looked back at him. "Come on, help me up."

He shook his head.

I groaned. "_Longshot_! We can't stay down here. We don't have food, we don't have drinkable water, and we don't have enough _air_ to just stand here arguing!"

He sighed and walked over. (Will you be careful?)

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I'll be careful."

(And if it starts to hurt too much, you'll tell me?)

"_Yes_!"

He rolled his eyes, knelt down, and held out his hands. I stepped on, he lifted me up.

Making sure to put more pressure on my right, I picked up a rock. "Bombs away!" I yelled before dropping it.

I kept tossing rocks down like that for what felt like the better part of an hour. The doorway was narrow enough for me to be able to reach both sides if I leaned a little bit either way.

After a while I started to feel Longshot's hands shaking. Even though nine years of archery had made him incredibly strong, he couldn't hold up a good… oh, hundred pounds forever.

"Hey, Longshot, how're you holding up?"

(I could do with a break, but I'll be fine for a few more minutes.)

"Nah, just lower me. I'm gettin' kinda tired, too." The only lie in that was the 'kinda'. I was _exhausted_. And my ankle was killing me. It was just… I knew our lives literally depended on this. I could deal with a little pain.

He lowered me and stepped off the rock, looking twice as worn out as I felt.

I walked towards the only wall not at least partially covered with rocks.

"Come on," I called over my shoulder. "We could both use a nap."

I sat against the wall, he sat next to me. For a few minutes, I just thought.

He must have noticed, because he looked at me and "said", (Are you okay?)

I jumped. "Yeah, I was just thinking."

He looked at me expectantly.

"Have… have you ever wondered… how it came this?"

(What do you mean?)

"Well… when we were little, before we joined the Freedom Fighters, I mean, we had everything we could ever want. Family, close friends… and when the Fire Nation took that away, it felt like we had nothing.

"And then Jet found us, showed us we weren't alone. It felt _better_. Better than even our real families. Like it was… more right. It still hurt when we thought of the past, but the Freedom Fighters made up for that, and more.

"Now that Jet's… not here, I feel like the floor's been yanked out right from under me, and I'm just barely hanging on, just by this tiny ledge. And if someone doesn't pull me up, _soon_, I'm just gonna fall."

I'd completely forgotten Longshot was there until he answered. _Out loud_.

"Yeah. That's how I feel, too. Although… what's your ledge?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said you were hanging on by this tiny ledge. What's the ledge?"

I thought a moment. "I guess… you." I chuckled. "Cheesy, huh?"

He shrugged. (Eh. A little.)

"But, really. To be honest… now, all we have is each other." I thought about that for a moment. "At least, until we get Pipsqueak and the Duke. Then we'll have a _lot_ more."

More specifically, a 6'6" animal-loving giant and 8-year-old whiz kid.

My eyes started to close. "How long do you think it'll take to move enough rocks to get out?"

(A few more hours. Those rocks must be pretty tightly packed to block out this much water.)

My eyes flew open.

Longshot noticed. (What?)

"Do you think… maybe the walls are still up? That the rocks are from the surface, not the tunnel?"

His eyes widened. (But… that would mean we'll have to dig the whole way out.)

"Uh-huh. This could be a problem."

(On the upside… it'll be safer. We won't have to worry about water pressure.)

"But it'll take, like, five times as long!"

(I think it'll take more than that. Maybe… seven or eight?)

This was _not_ going well. "So… how long?"

(I'd say… at least twenty-four hours.)

"Crap."


	3. Dark

Somehow I'd managed to fall asleep. At first I'd wanted to keep digging, but Longshot convinced me I needed to rest.

I didn't dream. I was glad. It probably would've been a nightmare.

By the time I woke up, Longshot was already back to moving rocks.

I yawned, stood up, and walked over. My ankle still hurt a bit, but it was a lot better.

"How long was I out?"

He jumped and turned around. Guess he didn't hear me get up. (I just got up a few minutes ago. I've just been moving the ones that don't look like they'll start a game of Jenga.)

I chuckled. "That's probably a good idea. Well, I'm here now, help me up."

I was _trying_ to sound calm. Inside I was freaking out. We couldn't work for twenty-four hours straight, but going that long without food or water, _and_ running out of air…

I shivered.

(You okay?) He already had his fingers laced together.

"Yeah, it's just… cold down here." I stepped on, he lifted me up. It took… about half an hour to finish up.

I looked down. "I'm done!"

He lowered me, looking like he was trying not to look relieved.

"You wanna take a break?"

He shook his head. (No. We have a long way to go.)

I looked at the still towering pile of rocks. "Ain't that the truth," I muttered.

I popped my neck. "Well, we better get started."

We clawed at the rock for hours. We'd managed to get… maybe ten feet in. That tunnel was a good quarter mile long.

We wouldn't make it in time. We'd starve, or dehydrate, or suffocate before we were even halfway there.

Longshot must've noticed the way my shoulders slumped, because, next thing I knew, his hand was on my shoulder.

(Are you okay?)

"Yeah, I'm fine." I didn't turn around.

(Bee, what's wrong?)

I bit my lip and turned. "We're not gonna make it, Longshot. It'd take us _days_ to dig our way out of here. We've gone without food before, but what about water? And how long do you think our air's gonna last?"

(Bee, they had to have put in vents. People are down here for hours at a time, do you really think they'd just rely on what came in when someone opened the entrance? As for water, we've gone a couple days at a time without it. We can get through this.)

"I just…" I ducked my head, trying not to cry. Wasting water, wasting water. "If Jet was here, he'd make this almost seem like… fun. Like we weren't gonna die if we couldn't do it. He always brought a… a light with him. Without him, it's just… dark."

He lifted my chin so that I was looking in his eyes. (Smellerbee the Freedom Fighter. You're not _giving up_, are you? Next to Jet, you're the most determined person I've ever met. Even Jet couldn't annoy Sneers as much as you, let alone dodge every punch he threw at you after you stole his clothes when he was taking a bath."

He was right. "I'm not giving up. Even if we can't make it out, I wanna die trying."

(Good.) The pad of his thumb brushed a stripe of paint on my cheek. (You're a warrior, Bee. Don't forget that.)

I smiled. Just a little. "I won't," I whispered.

He smiled back, then turned around and got back to work.

A few more hours went by. I was a bit hungry, but it was the thirst that was bothering me. I could deal, but at the rate we were going… And I was getting pretty tired, too. We'd have to take a break soon.

On the up side, we'd gotten more efficient. It might've been the whole 'positive thinking' thing, but I dunno.

Still, we'd only gotten another… twenty feet in before I gave in to the exhaustion. Meaning twenty feet after the ten.

I turned to face him. "Longshot, I–" He wasn't there. I looked down. As always, he was two steps ahead of me.

I chuckled and sat down next to him.

"'Night, Longshot," I whispered before closing my eyes.


	4. Dreams

I guess that sometimes when you won't let yourself think about something when you're awake, you kind of force yourself to dream about it.

Because if I could _choose_ what to dream, I wouldn't have dreamt about the day I met Jet.

I was six. I lived in a small town, a few miles north of Omashu. The Fire Nation had just launched a (failed) invasion there. I guess they were upset and thought they'd take it out on a nearby village. Make themselves feel better.

My father had gone off to war. My mother and older brother were at home. I was playing outside the village walls.

I heard the soldiers before I saw them. I recognized the heavy multitude of footsteps, the clang of their weapons. It wasn't the first time they'd come around.

My mother had told me that if they ever came and I wasn't with her, I needed to hide.

I was in an area in between the wall and the forest. I found a tight little cluster of trees and ran behind them.

The footsteps stopped several yards in front of me. I couldn't see what was going on without revealing myself, but I could still hear. Very clearly.

"Hey, Admiral! Check this out! A little village. Can we?"

He must've nodded, 'cause I heard cheering. Then the _fwoom_ of fire. And then screams. And laughter.

I was terrified. I had no idea what was going on. I knew it couldn't be good, but…

I poked my head around a tree, just to check. A hand grabbed my tunic and lifted me up.

"Hey, Admiral!" the man called. He had black hair, so slick it was almost dripping, a mustache, and a goatee. That was bad enough, but his eyes… they were gold, they should've sparkled, looked warm.

But they looked like bottomless pits. Like there was no soul behind them.

"You forgot one!" he yelled.

The admiral walked over and looked me up and down. I was trying not to cry, to call for help. I'd seen the still-burning ruins of my home. I knew no one would save me.

"What should I do with 'er?" the man holding me asked.

"Bring her with us," the admiral said after a moment. "She could be of use in the mines."

He walked away. "Come on, men! Let's move!" he called.

Everyone but the man holding me started marching.

_He _grinned evilly… hungrily. "Here that?" he asked. "You'll be staying with _us_."

"Not if I have anything to do with it!" a voice yelled from behind me.

Again, I wasn't sure what was going on. All I knew was that one moment I was in the man's hands, struggling not to burst out in tears, the next, something cold – metal – was around my waist and I was torn out of his hands and set on the ground.

A blur of metal, and the man was on the ground, his throat sliced open.

There was a boy standing in front of his body, about two years older than me. He had a mess of cinnamon-y hair, and was holding a pair of tiger-hook swords.

He looked at the body and shuddered, then turned to me. "Are you okay?" he whispered, coming closer.

I just stared. I'd seen a body before, but only a couple times, and I'd never seen anyone _get killed_.

"It's okay," he said, slowly edging closer. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

I looked at him, my eyes wide. He knelt down a few feet in front of me. "I'm just trying to help," he said.

I ran at him, threw my arms around him, and sobbed.

We stayed like that for at least ten minutes: me crying, him trying to comfort me.

I finally calmed down enough to talk. "Wh-who are you? What's your name?" I asked, letting go.

He chuckled, then looked thoughtful. "I don't really have one."

I was confused. "How can you not have a name?" I asked.

"Well, I used to…" His face got dark. "But things were… different then."

"What do you mean? What happened?" I'd almost completely forgotten about everything that'd happened.

"The Fire Nation happened. You know what they did to you?"

Everything came crashing back down on me. I bit my lip and nodded.

"They did that to me, too. They burned my village, just like they burned yours. It's only been a few months, but it feels like a lifetime. I was a different person back then. So I don't use my old name."

"Well, you can't go around with no name forever."

He smiled. "I've got it. How about _you_ give me a name?"

I thought about it for a moment. "Jet."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why Jet?"

"'Cause you're so fast. I could barely see you when you attacked that soldier."

"Hmmm… Okay. Jet it is."

"Now you think of one for me."

He looked surprised. "Why?"

"You said you don't use your old name because the Fire Nation took away your old life. Look around. They took mine, too."

He looked around. The scorch marks on the ground, the ruins, the burned bodies.

"You're right." He looked thoughtful. "Let me see something first." He took a dagger from his belt and handed it to me.

I looked at it. "What should I do with it?"

"Try to use it."

"Um…"

My father had taught my brother how to use a dagger before he went off to war. He, in turn, had taught me a bit. Nothing fancy, just the basics.

Jet turned me toward the forest. "Why don't you try it out on that tree over there," he said, pointing.

"Okay." I walked over to it. After thinking for a moment, I struck.

I jabbed at it, then ducked as if it had attacked back. I "ended it" by stabbing it just above where my neck was.

I heard clapping behind me. I turned around and Jet was stroking his chin, thinking. I giggled. (Yes, I know, _Smellerbee_ giggled? What is the world coming to? This was eight years ago, people!)

"So?" I asked.

He thought another moment. "Bee."

I cocked my head. "Why Bee?"

He smiled. "You're small, but you can sting."

I smiled back. Then I remembered the dagger. I pulled it out of the tree and held it out to Jet.

"Keep it," he said, pushing my hand away.

I beamed.

The dream skipped forward through a few months – actually, almost a year – of sleeping on the ground, running, hiding from the soldiers, just me and Jet.

Until I found someone else.

This memory was better. I could think about it while I was awake without bursting into tears.

We were tracking a group of about seven soldiers. With just the two of us, we couldn't really do anything, but we could at least learn more about them.

Well, we thought we could. We'd been tailing them for at least a week, and it seemed like they were just like we'd expected. Cold, heartless. At night they sat around a campfire, talking about villages they'd scorched and lives they'd ruined, and laughing.

They were coming back from a reconnaissance mission. They were inspecting Ba Sing Se's outer wall. Looking for any weak spot. They didn't come up with anything. They _were_ just going to meet up with another troop in a town about three days away.

Then they came across a little village. A lot like mine, actually.

I was alone that day. Jet was off looking for food.

It was a bit like my situation. The soldiers were just walking, and then they noticed the village. They talked, but I was too high up – and too far back, trying to stay hidden – to hear what they were saying.

And then they torched the place.

Four of them were fire benders. They took their stances, more-or-less covering the four "sides" of the wall, and blasted.

There were screams from inside. A few of the flames were put out, but they kept on coming, until the entire wall was ablaze.

Almost.

None of them noticed the small spot two feet off the ground, about three feet high, two across, that for some reason wasn't catching on fire. And then it dropped away.

And a boy was pushed through.

As soon as he climbed to his feet, it slammed shut.

As soon as the wall burned, they torched everything that wasn't already on fire.

The whole time, I was watching the boy. He looked around quickly, scrambling to figure out what to do. He wound up darting behind a tree. Huh. It really _was_ like me.

But this time, after everything was fried, they just laughed and left.

After making sure they were gone, I swung over to the tree he was hiding behind.

He looked a couple years older than me, about Jet's age. He was tall, though. Thin. Black hair, pale. He had a cone-shaped hat hanging from a strap around his neck and a quiver of arrows and bow strapped to his back. I knew not to try to talk to him yet. Jet had only approached me so quickly because I was in danger. It was better to let him be alone for a minute, and to judge his reaction to everything.

He looked sad, but mostly shocked. He didn't cry. After a few minutes, he just took an arrow out of his quiver, notched it in his bow, and shot it at a tree.

It landed straight, well-shot. Even though I didn't know much about archery, and neither did Jet, I could tell when an arrow was well-shot.

He shot a few more, each one landing in the exact same spot, splitting the last one in half.

"You're good at that." The words were out of my mouth before I even thought them.

He didn't jump, just turned and looked up at me. I climbed down.

It was the first time I could see his eyes. They were like orbs. Big, chocolate-colored orbs. I could read the emotion behind them like a scroll – but better. (I was only seven! I couldn't read all that well! … Okay, so I still can't read that well. What do you expect from someone who's lived in the forest for more than half her life?)

He was more upset than it'd seemed. The pain was bare in his eyes. (Not good enough,) they seemed to say.

"I know what you're feeling," I said. "Pain, betrayal, sadness. You feel alone."

In just the few seconds that I was with those soldiers, all those feelings had come crashing down on me.

He looked back at me, questioning. I noticed his arms were pretty badly burnt.

"I've got some salve," I said. "And, if you want, I can tell you my story."

He considered it for a moment, then sat down.

"My name's Bee," I said, taking the jar from my little bundle of supplies.

I told him everything. Jet saving me, how we came up with our names, the danger – and fun – of the past few months, even about how, sometimes, I wished there were more of us. Maybe that way we could actually _do_ something. Start a little group.

(And what would this group be called?) the boy "asked", smiling.

I thought a moment. "The Freedom Fighters." I thought for a couple more seconds. "Do you wanna join?"

He looked surprised. (Why?)

"Well, the whole point is that the Fire Nation burned our old lives…" I looked around. "I think you can relate."

He thought, then nodded.

"You got a name in mind?" I asked.

He thought a moment, then shook his head. (Why don't _you_ come up with one?)

I thought about the way mine and Jet's had both been based on our fighting. I thought about how good he was at archery…

"Longshot."


End file.
